


highway to you

by Interconnected_3



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Adventure, Family Bonding, Gang Wars, Other, Slice of Life, some of this stuff is really depressing oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8460070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interconnected_3/pseuds/Interconnected_3
Summary: All Nina asked for was a way out of an abusive household. What she got was a white-haired, tan-skinned, eyepatch-wearing fugitive crashing through her dining room window on a motorcycle.Niles and Nina; different as night and day, and yet their lives come together through a connection of a woman from both their pasts. On the run from both the police and Nina’s foster parents, the two set out to find the mystery woman and ultimately discover their own freedom.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ***NOTE***  
> This is a crossover between the anime series Michiko and Hatchin. I greatly enjoyed it, which is why I wrote this crossover, but you will be spoiled for future events if you watch the anime before reading this fic. TDLR; it's up to you whether you want to read this fic or watch the anime first. both are good to me though lmao

**A BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF HOW THE DIAMANDRA PRISON DUCTS SMELLED:**

**Like shit.**

There really was no other way to put it. Regardless of how he felt the mild urge to throw up, Niles tried to focus on crawling as fast as he could through the sheer darkness of the ducts. The occasional squeak of a rat was the only other sound he could hear next to his shallow gasps for breath, the slapping of his palms against the ground, and the scuffling of his jumpsuit pants as he shuffled along.

Niles counted the seconds. It should be ten-thirty right around now. Surely the night guard would be patrolling the cells soon, if not right this moment. He bit his lip and increased his pace. 

He let out a _‘tch’_ under his breath when he heard the sirens blast through his eardrums a minute and a half later. _Damn._

Through the wailing of the sirens and the thundering footsteps of the officers resounding in the building, the crazed cheers of the prisoners began. _Like I’m in some rodeo show_ , Niles breathily chuckled to himself. Niles had sat through quite a few attempted prison breaks himself, and the cheering and betting was undoubtedly a ritual for convicts looking to entertain themselves.

**A QUICK SNIPPET OF A CONVERSATION BETWEEN TWO INMATES:**

**“Hey, don’t you think that’s 403?”**

**“Probably.”**

**“Wanna bet on it?”**

**“On what?”**

**“On how far he’ll get.”**

**“Everyone knows the only way out is through the ducts. He won’t make it.”**

**“Nah, knowing him, I bet he’ll get out. For sure.”**

Niles let out a sigh of relief once he had come to the end of the ducts and instead found a ladder going downwards. He carefully went down the first few steps before dangling a leg down and jumping the rest of the way. His feet met the floorboards; he was still in the ceilings and in some sort of hallway now. A sly grin broke out despite his situation. Just as planned. He immediately broke out into a run.

As expected, there were officers below who heard his steps, so the machine gun bullets ripping through the wood under him didn’t surprise Niles as much as they should have. He jumped and danced around the shots as carefully as he could until the gunshots tapered off and he hit a dead end. His heart dropped into his stomach.

He sharply whispered a curse. Had he taken a wrong turn somewhere? Niles backed as far into the corner as he could and inhaled slowly. Gunshots kept tearing through the floor until there was a circle of holes a foot away from his feet. He closed his eyes and tried to listen over the pumping of blood in his ears. One person’s footsteps were beneath him right now. What were his options?

**THE NUMBER OF SECONDS SPENT THINKING UNTIL HE SAID “FUCK IT”:**

**Three.**

Niles concentrated all his weight into his right leg and stomped down, tearing through the thinning wood around the gunshot holes. He hardly had to think about what he was going to do when he saw the tan face of an officer beneath him. His foot landed squarely into the middle of the officer’s face, and a follow-up kick with his left was all it took to knock him into the wall and crumple to the floor with a groan. Niles most definitely just broke his nose and did not regret a thing.

He let out the breath he’d been holding and wasted no time in slipping the machine gun off the unconscious man. What came next was easy; he nicked the keys off the officer and ran straight out through the back doors of the prison.

Niles let out a grunt and had to shield his eyes for a moment when he walked into the dry wasteland outside. Harsh winds filtering through the turbines had turned the place into a complete sandstorm. As if navigating through the darkness wasn’t difficult enough, now the clouds of dirt and sand were impairing him even further. This was a first for him, but definitely not unintentional.

The wind howled in his ears. He clutched onto the machine gun for dear life as he ran down the train tracks leading to civilization. There was an occasional flash of white in his vision and the humming of helicopter choppers, and it didn’t take long until the spotlight was completely on him.

The ground was vibrating under his feet and bullets soon sprayed over the tracks. The helicopter started to lower, and Niles took the chance to shoot a wave of his own bullets through the front windows. He had to stop and spit some sand out of his mouth and flick his bangs out of his eye.

“Hey!” He yelled over the plethora of humming noises, “If you boys want to chase my arse around, you’d better be ready! If you play with fire, you won’t get away with just a burn!”

“Prison 403, Niles Dacosta! If you don’t surrender willingly, we will shoot you on the spot!” The pilot’s voice filtered through a microphone at him.

Niles sighed. “Well, it was worth a try.”

Though of course, they couldn’t hear him, so he decided to respond by firing his machine gun straight through the windows again.

The helicopter did start to dip again, but Niles clicked his tongue and turned to keep running out of the headlights. A huge gust of wind caused him to stop in his tracks, and he winced and put his arm up against his eye. When he next turned around, the side of the helicopter collided with a turbine and crashed into the sand, sending another cloud of dust into the air. It didn’t take long for the smell of gasoline to reach Niles’s nose, and in seconds there was nothing but a pile of bright embers smouldering in the ground. The headlights flickered out, almost as if they were closing curtains to the chase.

Niles let out a low whistle at the flaming wreck. He’d made it.

Or so he thought until a helicopter chopper flew through the air and almost beheaded him.

 

* * *

 

 

**A SHORT DESCRIPTION OF NINA MARTINEZ-LOPEZ AND HOW HER DAYS START:**

**A doe-eyed fourteen-year-old dressed in a simple overall dress and a short-sleeved shirt. Her silver hair is always neatly done in two low braids. She is the first one up on a clear day at six AM.**

**She spends most of her time doing chores and daydreaming.**

When the milkman first makes his rounds, Nina takes the usual two jugs and watches them disappear down the road in his truck. Nina’s watched this road for a long time. Everything except the milkman seems to pass them by as if they don’t exist. Though, on the outskirts of a desert, there isn’t much to go around anyway. She wonders how far she would have to run to never have to see this place again. Far, probably. She’s only run down the road once or twice when she was younger, and every time she would be pulled back to the house before she could get anywhere.

The coldness seeping through her arms brings Nina out of her daydreams, and she quickly steps into the house to put the milk jugs onto the dining table.  As she slips behind the table to open the curtains, a yowl emerges from under a chair. Nina doesn’t need to look to know that it’s Blanco, the family cat, asking for breakfast. Nina just sighs and feeds him a piece of fish jerky to shut him up.

“Happy now?” She mumbles. A muffled meow is the only response she gets.

Seeing his matted white fur and the fraying pink ribbon around his neck really does not help her mood this morning. She knows it’s never a good day when she immediately starts thinking about how far she wants to run away. It is, however, completely normal for Nina to be the only one awake in someone else’s house.

She sets the table and makes breakfast, too; omelettes, using salt a bit sparingly. All seems to be going well until a piece of the shell falls in. Nina tries to use her fingers to pick it out quickly, but the pan is already too hot to entertain that idea. By the time she scoops it out with a fork, a black smoke starts to rise from the pan.

She inwardly groans. Today was definitely not going to be a good day.

 

* * *

 

 

At nine o’clock sharp, the Martinez-Lopez family lines up to sit down at the table.  Father Pedro comes down and sits first to face his breakfast; Nina thinks that even the way he sits down is practiced. His chair creaks exactly five times.

**A SHORT DESCRIPTION OF FATHER PEDRO:**

**A thin man who looks as though he’s being swallowed whole by his robes. His voice is frail-sounding and stuffy. He wears square glasses and a receding hairline.**

**He hardly ever uses non-ink writing utensils, but when he does, he keeps the eraser in his left hand as he writes.**

There’s a pause, but Nina does not sit. As is customary for adopted children of the Martinez-Lopez family (or so Nina believes), she must wait for everyone else to be seated before she is allowed to eat. The silence is filled by the clacking of her foster mother’s heels. She passes by Nina, and she has to try hard not to wince at the suffocating scent of her perfume.

**A SHORT DESCRIPTION OF FOSTER MOTHER ANGELA:**

**The third wife of Father Pedro, but the only one to ever bear his children. Her attire consists mostly of tight buns, tight skirts, tight blouses, and tight tights.**

**She cries the easiest at TV dramas.**

When Father Pedro picks up his fork, he flips the omelette over, revealing the charred marks on the bottom. Nina immediately stares down at her feet.

“Oh, dear, were you trying to hide this?” asks foster mother Angela, disapprovingly leaning in to inspect the damage done while pushing up her glasses.

“Nina,” Father Pedro says, “I don’t want you to grow into a narrow-minded person who tries to hide their mistakes.” And with that said, Father Pedro holds out his plate of beans, tomatoes, and his burnt omelette, and turns it sideways. The entire meal splats onto the floor like a bomb. Nina doesn’t have the heart to be surprised.

He holds out his plate to Nina. _Make it again_ , he’s asking her, and so she does.

 _Clean this up after_ , Nina knows he’s implying.

Nina holds her breath as the older sister arrives with her calmly dignified face. Her long pigtails swish in the air and the light of the ceiling lamp reflects in her glasses. Nina does not trust this look of hers, and never has.  Nina has to bite her lip to keep herself quiet as elder sister Maria stomps down on her foot and grinds it into the floor.

**A SHORT DESCRIPTION OF ELDER SISTER MARIA:**

**A year older than Nina and loves to flaunt it. The ribbons in her hair, pink dress, rimmed glasses, and perpetual smirk remind Nina of a shiny red apple with a rotting inside.**

**Nina once caught her popping a pimple in the bathroom mirror and crying at the sight of the blood.**

As Maria takes her seat, a sudden gust of air causes Nina to yelp and shove her skirt back down. She turns and is not surprised to see the youngest brother Gabriel snickering behind her. _He would undoubtedly push me into a ditch if it meant getting an extra scoop of pudding_ , she thinks to herself. 

**A SHORT DESCRIPTION OF YOUNGEST BROTHER GABRIEL:**

**He only comes up to Nina’s waist. His hobbies include chasing after the family cat (into Nina’s room), skipping stones (at Nina’s face), and practicing combing his hair (with Nina’s comb).**

**Although he is only eight years old, that does not stop him from having the worst eyesight out of the entire family.**

Finally, Nina takes her seat and clasps her hands together in prayer with the rest of the Martinez-Lopez family.

**A NOTE:**

**Nina does not believe in God.**

During prayer, Gabriel picks up his plate and uses a finger to flick his beans at Nina’s face. She tries to whisper sharply at him to stop, but manages to use both her hands to deflect most of the beans. Gabriel answers by throwing his entire plate at her, covering both her face and clothing in eggs and sauce. Nina still does not have the heart to be surprised.

This is how her days begin, and usually how they end.

After breakfast is when Nina’s chores officially start (along with her own prayers for them to go smoothly). First, floor wiping. She fills a bucket with water, dips in a cloth, then moves up and down the floorboards while pushing it along. No one is around, so she can bend back as much as she wants in her dress.

When she hears something splashing behind her, she knows fortune is not on her side today. Nina turns to see elder sister Maria with a mop in her hands. Maria brings the mop into the bucket harshly, causing sprays of dirty water to spill over the edge and onto the floor.

Despite knowing how futile it is, Nina opens her mouth anyway to weakly protest, “Could you please not do that?”

Maria giggles, then swings the mop behind the bucket and smacks it like a baseball. Nina blinks and the next thing she knows the bucket clangs right into her face. A yelp escapes her as she falls back into the TV stand with her face stinging. Nina groans once she opens her eyes to see not only the enormous stain left on the floorboards and her clothes, but Maria nowhere to be found.

Typical.

Nina retreats to the backyard to hang up her soaking clothes and socks on the clothesline, leaving her only in her undershirt and briefs. The sun is out and the ground is drier than usual, so hopefully it wouldn’t take long for her dress to dry.

“Hey, snot-face!”

Nina jumps and whips around. Gabriel had been standing on the wooden stool under the orange tree a few feet away.

“Everything below me is the sea now,” He exclaims, stepping up onto a branch and plucking an orange from the tree. “Got it? You’re in the sea now!”

An orange comes sailing towards Nina, and she quickly ducks behind her drying shirt. The orange’s momentum stops once it hits her hanging sock and drops to the ground.

“Go get it!” Gabriel commands, and Nina inwardly sighs and steps off her own stool, to which Gabriel immediately reprimands her, “You can’t walk in the sea! Swim!”

Nina wonders what the point of all this is, but half-heartedly put out her arms in swimming motions while she walks towards the fallen orange.

“Why do I have to do this?” She mutters a bit too loudly.

“You can’t breathe in the ocean, idiot!”

Nina bites the inside of her cheek before taking a huge gasp of air loud enough for him to hear and continuing her pace. _How stupid._

A second later, something hard knocks into the back of her head, and she lets out a sound of surprise. Unbeknownst to her, Gabriel had been waiting the entire time with a pocketful of pebbles to throw at her from behind. Of course.

“Take that!” He laughs as he throws multiple pebbles at a time. “And that, and that, and that!”

Nina manages to sidestep around most of them, but when one comes flying straight towards her eyes, she quickly puts up a hand to block it. The moment she looks up, Gabriel is running towards her and shoves his foot straight into her stomach, knocking the air out of her as she falls to the ground.

He blows a raspberry at her before running back inside the house.

Nina stays lying on the ground for a few moments and watches the clouds move by. She’s long grown used to this. Her days of crying ended years ago. Now all she felt was numb. Numb and numb and nothing. Maybe that was the key to surviving in this house; to not feel a thing.

Or so she thinks, but Nina has yet to master the art of feeling nothing. This especially comes to mind when foster mother Angela pulls her into the house roughly and stands her right in front of the stained floorboards and carpet corner where Maria had spilled the water earlier.

Nina knows she isn’t the one who is supposed to speak first, so she bites her lip and stares at her shoes. The only thing she can hear is the ticking of the clock on the wall and foster mother Angela’s foot tapping on the ground impatiently. Her arms are crossed over her chest; definitely a bad sign.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Angela asks pointedly. Nina holds her breath. Here it comes. “What in the world is this huge black stain?”

**WHAT NINA WAS GOING TO SAY:**

**“Maria pushed the bucket over and spilled the water while I was wiping the floors.”**

“I... I spilled the water in the bucket,” Nina says in a small voice. She laces her fingers together in front of her and squeezes; a habit she picked up while being scolded.

Angela’s heel clacks onto the ground angrily. A bad sound. A warning alarm.

“Do you have any idea how much this carpet cost?!” She screeches, and Nina instinctively squeezed her eyes shut. She saw it coming. Of course she did. But she still could never stop flinching. She knows what comes next, too.

Foster mother Angela grabs Nina by the elbow and shoves her into the storage room. It was damp and dark and smelled of rotting wood and dust as a result of being neglected for years on end. Its only use now was to serve as a reserved punishment room for Nina when she made an especially big mistake, such as today.

Nina knew better than to try to turn around and open the door once she was pushed inside. As if Angela were expecting it every time, she would slam the door shut and jam the keys inside, solidifying Nina’s numbness with the sound of a locking click.

“Don’t think that you’ll be forgiven just because you’re a young girl,” foster mother Angela says in a clipped tone. “That’s not how things work in this house.”

“I know,” Nina whispers as she sits under a window and hugs her knees to her chest. _That’s what you say every time_.

Hours passed. Nina drifted off into a light doze with her forehead pressing against her knees and only woke up once she heard the sound of the door unlocking. She pressed a hand against the wall and stood up slowly to stretch out her sore legs, and noticed that the sun had already dipped below the horizon. Foster mother Angela must have forgotten about her until dinner was over. But after this whole ordeal, Nina found that her appetite was nonexistent. Even if there were leftovers, she didn’t want them.

She silently leaves the storage room and creeps up the stairs. Her mind is near completely blank as she slips into the bathroom and tosses her clothing into a basket next to the shower. Nina turns the water so hot that the entire room fills with steam and her skin starts to turn pink. She rubs shampoo furiously into her scalp and scrubs at her skin with Angela’s loofah until it turns bright red.

 _Wash it off,_ she thinks over and over again. _Just wash this entire day off of me._

By the time she finishes grating every inch of her body with soap and the loofah, her fingers are completely pruned up, but she still isn’t ready to go outside. So she sits on the floor of the bathtub and lets the hot water pour over her with her knees drawn up against her chest again.

In the midst of her pain, there is something that keeps her afloat. A fantasy of sorts, like the ones she’d read about when she was young.

**A DESCRIPTION OF NINA’S FANTASY:**

**Somebody would come in the distance, and her Prince Charming would step out of a horse-drawn carriage with a cape and crown atop his head. He smiles gently at her, just a slight curve of thin, perfect lips, the kind of smile she’s never had the privilege of seeing. And he says one thing in a voice as smooth as velvet:**

**_“I’m here to get you, Nina.”_ **

A lump rises in Nina’s throat, and she forces down a soft sob and balls her hands into fists on top of her knees. _Please come soon,_ she begs him.

She knows he won’t.

Nina isn’t sure how much time passes before the water suddenly turns off, leaving only the sound of dripping water and ringing in her ears. She blinks in confusion and pulls the shower curtain away to see if Gabriel had somehow snuck in and turned the shower off. But all she sees is the basket next to the bathmat vacant of her clothing, with only the towel left at the bottom.

“What in the...” her whisper trails off as the passiveness returns to her face. Today must be the worst nightmare to come true in a while.

Her hair is still dripping when she wraps the towel around herself and carefully steps out of the bathroom, shivering a bit at the change in temperature. Her stomach immediately twists when she sees Maria leaning against the wall and turning to smirk at her knowingly.

“Where are my clothes?” Nina asks softly. Even her words sound like they’re about to fall apart the moment they leave her mouth.

“Hmm, I wonder,” Maria hums.

She expected as much. Nina clutches the towel closer around her shoulders and starts to make her way by Maria to head to her room, but a sudden tug on the end of her towel makes Nina jump.

“Towels are for drying, not for wearing, stupid.” Maria smiles. A sensation of fleeting panic suddenly rushes up Nina’s throat and she quickly pulls the towel back. The panic only escalates when she feels that Maria still has not let go of it despite her tugging. Nina’s feet nearly slip over the floorboards as she tries to make a run for it down the stairs.

“Wait!” Maria spits out her command and grabs onto the towel with both hands. “What are you clinging onto it for? Let _go!_ ” Nina clings onto the towel for dear life and squeezes her eyes shut as she’s shaken, please let this be over, please let this be over, please let this be over, she bundles herself as tightly into it as she can and shivers from the air hitting her bare skin.

“No!” Nina cries out, finally wrestling the towel out of Maria’s grip and curling herself into a defensive ball facing away from her.

Maria scoffs. “Fine.”

Maria’s foot kicks squarely into the middle of Nina’s back, and all Nina can do is try not to cry out too loudly as her thin body rolls down the stairs and a splinter makes its way into her skin.

Nina stays lying on her side until she can hear Maria’s footsteps fade away. There she lies under the glass stained portrait of God, staring at the swaying of the candles on either side of the frame. 

The towel is nowhere near big enough to cover the entirety of her bare body, but she curls up under it regardless, as if willing her body to curl up into a shape small enough for her to slip through the floorboards and disappear completely.

Things like this happen every day, and will continue to go on forever and ever.

 

* * *

 

 

As it turns out, Niles did not have to think very hard while he was robbing a bank.

Normally he would have resorted to more subtle methods as a means of staying alive; it was something he did with regularity throughout the course of his life. But he had places to go and resources he needed in order to get to them. Therefore, he robbed a bank.

When he first walked through the sliding doors, all it took was the sight of a prisoner’s jumpsuit, the duffel bag in his left hand, and the machine gun in his right for people to jump and scatter out of his path. Niles couldn’t help but smile at the front desk once the workers’ expressions twisted to those of terror. The screams wringing their way through his eardrums were almost like second nature to him as he shot a spray of bullets across the glass windows, blooming lines of cracks from right to left. He then jumped onto the counter kicked through the broken windows, showering the ground with glass shards.

Niles stayed standing on the counter as he stared down at the horrified faces of the people he’d held hostage, who were now cowering on the floor. Judging by their attire, they all looked like people who were rather well off. Niles took a bit of joy in instilling some fear into their lives.

“Here. Get a move on. You’d best make it quick-” He accentuated his sentence with the cocking of the gun in his right hand and a grin. “Or I’ll blow your brains out of your skull. Got it?”

One woman’s jaw was open and quivering; she was clearly on the verge of tears judging from the short gasps of air leaving and entering her mouth.

Niles smiled especially sweetly at her.

 

* * *

 

 

March fifteenth. Today was the one day every three months a government worker would come from the city to check on Nina. But all they ever do is show up, hand over some money, and leave. In the end, that’s all there is to it. Nina knows full well of what she’s meant to hide from them in order to benefit her family.

Before brunch that day, Father Pedro took Nina to the church of Saint Pedro and stood before her at the pedestal. The Tuesday morning sunlight shone through the windows and onto the velvet carpet. The vases of lilies and candles framing Father Pedro made him look like an angel with a halo of sunlight.

“Nina,” his stuffy voice says. “These are for you.”

He offers her a small stack of books, which Nina accepts without hesitation. “Thank you very much.”

She takes a second to look over them quickly and frowns for a split moment.

**A DESCRIPTION OF FATHER PEDRO’S GIFTS:**

**Picture books, colouring books, sticker books, all with brightly decorated covers... and worn edges.**

“Nina, do you remember this morning’s news?” Father Pedro asks, and Nina immediately looks up to meet his gaze. She does remember. The radio broadcast was about a human trafficking site the police had found a few miles away.

“Around here, children like you have to sell either their organs or their bodies,” He continues, and then smiles knowingly. “Do you know who saved you from that life?”

“Yes,” she answers.

“And who would that be?”

“God,” she lies.

Father Pedro’s eyebrows curve along with the smirk of his lips. “In other words?”

Nina’s gaze drops to his hands. Her eyes stare farther off into the distance.

“You, Father,” she says blankly.

He seems pleased and goes on with an almost comforting tone, “There’s no need to be bitter. Love thy neighbour.” Father Pedro starts to walk back down the hallway and gives Nina a pat on the shoulder as he passes by. Nina can barely stop herself from flinching away.

Her stomach twists and a feeling of nausea creeps into her throat. She feels like she’s just sworn her loyalty to a new religion.

And he bribed her with Maria’s hand-me-downs and a wooden cross to wear around her neck.

The government official visits their house an hour later, and Nina quickly pours him a cup of coffee. From the kitchen, she can hear him and Father Pedro talking.

“My, this sofa is nice,” the official exclaims over the buzz of the TV. “It must have been expensive.” The government official is a round man with crinkles around his eyes and never seemed to fit his uniform quite right. Even though he’s been coming every few months to check on Nina, she’s never been formally introduced to him. She just calls him Mister Man.

“Oh, no, no,” Father Pedro waves his hand. “It was an offering from a believer, and as such there was no price.”

“Ah, I see,” Mister Man hums in approval.

Nina quietly delivers the saucer on the coffee table in front of them and notices Father Pedro’s face falling in distaste. Nina guesses he feared he may have convinced Mister Man that they didn’t need any more money.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Nina says, bowing a bit.

“Yes, yes, you too,” he replies. “You seem well.”

Nina smiles, and her answer comes out as if it were an automated message set to play in her vocal chords, “Yes.”

He nods, completely buying into it. “Good,” he smiles back. “That’s what’s important.”

Nina wonders if anyone will ever be able to sense how fake her happy expressions are.

At brunch, everything seems to be going smoothly. Of course, Gabriel’s table manners are abysmal and Maria is picking at her eggs, but there’s a sense of temporary peace as they eat. The table is quiet until foster mother Angela pours Mister Man a glass of wine, to which he nods and gives his thanks.

“Say,” she almost croons as she pulls the bottle back. Nina tries not to roll her eyes. “Do you know of “Devotee of The Year”?”

“Devotee of The Year?” Mister Man repeats while swirling his wine glass. “I can’t say I do.”

Angela smiles and gestures to the shelf behind Mister Man, where a framed award sits perfectly angled for him to see. Nina remembers Angela putting that there last night and muttering something along the lines of “We’ll have to see what this does”.

“It’s an award given only to those who have done exceptional things,” Foster mother Angela explains. “And my husband was chosen as one of the recipients.”

Mister Man just laughs, “Oho, I see. That’s quite an honour you’ve received.” 

“There was this man named Gonzalez, and my goodness, he was uncontrollably wild!” Angela shakes her head in disgust and pushes up her glasses. “But after just one sermon from my husband, he became a completely changed man!”

Nina can almost see Father Pedro’s ego inflating from across the table. It might solidify into true helium and cause his head to pop. Again, Nina refrains from rolling her eyes.

 _What a bunch of lies,_ she thinks to no one in particular. _Gonzalez changed thanks to the bullet lodged between his eyes._

**A QUICK SUMMARY OF THE TALE OF GONZALEZ:**

**Gonzalez was a previous leader of a gang of street thugs. He had been walking down the street with his girlfriend five months ago when he was randomly attacked by a masked suspect. By all rights and purposes he should have died from the headshot, but he somehow managed to survive. Father Pedro visited him in the hospital to tell him that God would forgive his sins.**

**Gonzalez replied with a groan, dribbling more spit out of his mouth.**

A meow from the other side of the table snaps Nina out of her bitter thoughts. Mister Man lowers his head and leans down to pet Blanco, who had been yowling and rubbing up against his leg.

He gives Blanco a quick pat, followed by a chuckle: “My, isn’t he cute? Is he a stray?”

At the mention of Blanco, foster mother Angela immediately seems a bit put off and waves her hand with an awkward smile. “W-Well, yes, you could put it that way. Maria picked it up off the side of the road and they’ve been so doting to it ever since.”

Gabriel slams his fork down on the table to immediately protest (and spray a mouthful of food from between his teeth), “No, it was me!”

Angela jumps. “O-Oh, is that so, dear?” She quickly tries to correct herself. “T-They take such good care of it!”

Nina rolls her eyes for real this time.

**A SUMMARY OF BLANCO’S CARETAKING:**

**“Hey! Blanco’s pooped. Do something about it.”**

**“Do you think you could take care of Blanco for me today? I’ve been feeling dizzy all morning.”**

“So?” Angela asks, looking at the three kids. “Who’s on Blanco duty today?”

Nina tries to move her legs out from under the table, but it’s too late. Two feet kick her in both legs; one from Gabriel, one from Maria.

She squeaks and swiftly puts up her hand. “M-Me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night after the government official leaves and all of Nina’s chores are done, she takes a shower and goes to her room to read. On the lower floor of the house, the TV is on, and foster mother Angela is having a crisis.

She opens the envelope containing the cheque from Mister Man. When she pulls it out under a lamp to read, her face immediately falls in disappointment.

“They never give us a raise, do they?” She mutters to herself through gritted teeth. “Seriously... do they even know how much it costs to raise a child?”

Foster mother Angela is so busy glaring at the cheque that she doesn’t even notice Blanco jumping onto the sofa next to her and rubbing up against her pencil skirt. Angela groans and half-heartedly shoves him away with her leg, only for Blanco to yowl louder and start licking her.

“Ahh, ew!” Angela cries, and forcefully shoves him away and onto the floor. Blanco yowls defensively and runs off. “I can’t stand that thing. It’s so filthy.”

Ten minutes later, Nina’s textbook reading is interrupted by a knock on her door. When she turns and the door opens, foster mother Angela is standing there with a tied sack in her hand.

“Nina,” she starts, and throws the bag into the middle of her room. It lands with a heavy-sounding thump. “Go throw this out somewhere. And don’t come back until you do. Got it?” And with that, she slams the door.

Nina blinks and slowly turns to stare at the bag on the ground. “What the-”

The lump inside suddenly starts to yowl and thrash around, and Nina jumps before realizing- “Blanco?”

She sighs. So foster mother Angela had finally lost her patience with him. Nina knew she never liked having Blanco around to begin with; it was only a matter of time.

Gabriel and Maria were both in their rooms, so Nina managed to slip out of the house without much effort. The spring air was a bit chilly against her skin and the stars were already out. There was an abandoned graveyard quite a ways away from the house that was mostly inhabited by crows scouring for food. But Nina had no idea where else to put the sack, so she mumbled an apology and dumped the sack down next to the rotting motel sign before running back to the house.

 

* * *

 

 

Nina did not wake up with a good feeling the next morning. She knew Gabriel wasn’t going to be pleased. For some reason, he thought fondly of Blanco, even if all Blanco did was eat a lot of fish jerky and refused to learn any of the tricks Gabriel tried teaching him. The Martinez-Lopez family could expect a huge tantrum later today once Gabriel would find Blanco missing, complete with running snot and big, fat tears.

She tried to go through her chores as she always did, but for some reason foster mother Angela stayed seated at the table that morning reading the newspaper with a coffee mug in her hand. It made Nina antsy for some reason. Angela almost always went out to the shopping district to chat with friends after breakfast and wouldn’t return until the late afternoon.

Nina tries to focus on the soapy dishes in her hands as she stands at the sink, but the fleeting thoughts still worry her. When she hears footsteps come into the kitchen, she breathes in and holds it tight in her chest.

“Hey,” Gabriel says. “Where’s Blanco?” Nina’s lungs start to hurt.

“Hmm, now that you mention it, I haven’t seen it at all this morning,” Angela says dismissively. Her eyes still don’t leave her newspaper.

“I haven’t seen him since last night,” Gabriel’s lips turn out into a pout.

“Nina,” Angela calls, and her heart plummets into her stomach. “Do you know anything about this?”

Nina slowly lets out the breath she’d been holding. “No, I don’t,” she says as passively as possible.

“Oh, well that’s rather strange,” Angela smiles and turns her head to Nina. “Since I _did_ see you with him last night.”

 _You used me!_ She realizes too late, and her jaw falls open.

“Where did you take him?” Gabriel growls and Nina’s legs immediately start to feel weak. She stares down at the ground, trying to brace herself. Gabriel’s angry. There’s no telling what he’ll do next. He’s small but he is still a child with a running imagination.

“I said, where did you take him?!” He yells now, and Nina flinches. This is not going to end well.

**A DESCRIPTION OF NINA’S SITUATION FIVE MINUTES LATER:**

**Gabriel kicked Nina onto the ground and ordered her to get on all fours. The moment she reluctantly did so, Gabriel leapt onto her back as if she were a horse. He claimed that she “needed a leash”, which was a supposed justification for keeping a tied rope leash around her neck for him to hold in one of his hands as he yelled “Giddy up!” and shoved his heels into her hips.**

“Walk faster!” He commands, kicking his heels against her again as she crawls forward down the hallway. “Blanco’s much faster than this. Or he _was_.” Gabriel tugs harshly on the rope, and all Nina can do is stop to choke and cough for a few seconds.

Hot tears threaten to sting her eyes. Humiliation. Her hands hurt. Her knees feel like they’ve been dragged over a hot carpet multiple times. She tries to close her eyes, but her prince doesn’t come. _Please just let me survive this,_ she begs to no one in particular. Her back is sweaty; Gabriel’s body heat sitting right on top of her is not doing her any favours.

“Oh, well isn’t this nice?” Nina’s heart breaks even further when Maria starts to come down the stairs with a basket of laundry.

“It’s Blanco the second!” Gabriel proudly announces. Nina faintly wonders if he’s distracted enough for her to just throw him off and run for her life. But he’s got the rope in his hands. She’ll die of oxygen deprivation before she can even stand up.

“But isn’t this Blanco pretty dirty?” Maria asks. Nina has to bite her lip as Maria’s foot stomps onto the side of her dress. She’s only this dirty because Gabriel knocked her onto the ground.

“Whoa, you’re right. You hear that? You’re filthy!” Gabriel laughs.

“Speaking of dirty, I’ve got something nice, Gabe,” Maria says. She pulls something out of the laundry basket and plugs it into the wall.

Nina’s blood goes cold. The iron press is set on the ground behind her and a click of the “on” button is enough to make her head start to shut down.

“Blanco means ‘white’, doesn’t it?” Maria smirks and pulls out a bottle of floor cleaner. “I think you need to be cleaned.”

Nina’s mouth falls ajar. “Wha-”

She’s cut off by a spray of white suds on her cheek, and she yelps and turns her head away. But she can’t get away. Maria circles around her like a predatory bird and sprays her once, twice, thrice- on her cheek, on her hair, on her neck. Nina’s eyes squeeze shut and a sob leaves her throat. Some of the solution gets in her eye and it stings so badly. All she can do is start to crawl backwards, praying for some sort of escape route to open up beneath her and swallow her whole.

But the hissing of the iron makes her jump and come back to her senses. When Maria skips behind her to pick it up, Nina starts crawling for the door as fast as she can with Gabriel still on her back.

“Wait up!” Maria calls with a sing-song tone and starts to run after her. Panic overloads every one of Nina’s senses until Gabriel takes hold of the rope and pulls back with almost all his weight.

“Hey, stop moving!” He says as he tugs, and Nina grabs at the loop around her neck while she coughs and sputters. Her vision is nearly going red.

When she next opens her eyes, Maria grabs a fistful of Nina’s hair and yanks it so that her face is fully exposed. “Stay still for a moment, would you?”

The steaming face of the iron press fills her vision. Nina’s heart stops. She immediately leans away from it. Gabriel topples off her back and lands on the ground with a thud, while Maria loses her balance and falls next to Nina. The iron press falls out of her hand and slides across the floor. Nina is too busy coughing and feeling utter relief to realize that Gabriel’s started wailing, “It hurts!” His resistance to pain had always been nonexistent. A rubber band smacking against his skin could bring on a storm of tears.

Maria growls as she gets up and grabs Nina’s hair again, making her cry out in pain. “Apologize!” She commands, grabbing Nina’s head and forcing it down with her hand.

 _Are you serious?_ She wants to say so badly, but decides to retaliate by pushing back against her hand. She’s still on all fours and still has the rope leash on, but Nina still has the ever-present thought that she is not going to apologize for any of this.

Maria pushes down even harder. Nina tries to keep her arms firm against the ground. “I said, apologize!” Maria yells.

Nina can almost physically feel herself start to crack. “It’s not my fault,” she grits out before slapping Maria’s hand away to yell back, “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

Nina doesn’t bother hiding her glare. Maria’s expression can be described as almost one of shock, but it quickly steels back over to her smug, condescending state of being.

“Oh, so you’re finally fighting back now, are you? I get it,” she says. Before Nina can say anything back, Maria picks up the rope and drags her across the floor and towards the door. “In that case, _you get out_!”

Nina can hardly breathe until Maria lets go of the rope and kicks the front door open. It takes Nina a moment to realize Maria kicked her, too; she rolls painfully down the porch steps and a scrape of the dry ground against her cheek irritates her skin. 

“We don’t need someone like you in our house, anyway.” Maria states with a blank face before closing the door in Nina’s face.

Nina slowly sits up and stares at the entrance.

Unbelievable.

**WHAT NINA FELT IN THAT MOMENT:**

**A dam broke inside of her. Every cell, every molecule in her body began to melt and turn to molten lava. Her blood was beginning to boil.**

**She wasn’t sure what exactly broke, but it could perhaps be akin to something like “patience”.**

Before her mind could even register her body’s movements, Nina stands up and runs to the door to fling it open. Maria was walking down the hall with the laundry basket in her hands once more. It wouldn’t be there for long. Nina runs straight at her with nothing but whiteness in her head, and Maria drops the basket in shock when she sees Nina coming.

Without stopping once, Nina let out a feral growl as she slammed her forehead into Maria’s. The older girl fell to the ground and her glasses flew off her face and clattered onto the ground. The moment she was down, Nina followed her movements and slammed her hands onto her shoulders to keep her pinned there.

Nina stays on top of her for a few seconds trying to collect herself. Her breathing is ragged. Her entire body is burning. Here she is, in a position that she had only ever dreamt of being in. She thought she was prepared for the day she would tell someone her opinion. She even practiced it over and over in her head on days when she was especially upset. But now that she’s here, nothing is in her head except for pure, unadulterated rage.

“I...” Nina pants before sitting up straight and shrieking out, “I have been putting up with this for too long!”

She slaps Maria across the face. A rush of adrenaline surges through her. An angry red mark is left on Maria’s cheek along with the one on her forehead. It feels good. It feels right.

“You don’t need me? You don’t _need_ me?!” Nina screams. She grabs Maria by the collar with one hand and beats her with the other. “Oh, spare me! If it weren’t for me, who do you think would be making your breakfast every morning?!”

_Slap._

“Who would be cleaning out the cat litter?!”

_Slap._

“Who would be wiping the floors, who would be doing the laundry, who would be getting slapped and kicked and punched and pushed down the stairs if it weren’t for me?!”

_Slap. Slap. Slap._

Nina’s head feels faint. She doesn’t recall any of what she just said. Maria’s face is puffy and red and sticky from her tears and snot. Nina had never imagined that someone could look so terrified of her. She moves both her hands down to grab Maria’s collar and stares right at her.

“Look at me,” Nina growls out her order. “Look me right in the eyes.”

Maria does. She’s quivering and her entire face is red and her breathing comes out in short hiccups. But she does.

“This is who I am,” Nina’s voice cracks. She winds her fist back- “Now _REMEMBER IT!_ ”

 -and punches Maria in the face.

 

Nina wonders if she somehow left the plane of existence she had been on for all her life. She can’t think of anything else. She runs out of the door and down the road she always thought she could never run down. The sun is starting to set. The wind feels so good against her hot skin. Her lungs are aching like they never have before. She can barely breathe.

 _I did it_ , she thinks over and over. _I did it. I did it._

Nina doesn’t know how long she runs for, but eventually her calves start to feel weak and give out under her. She collapses to the concrete and hunches down, gasping for breath. All the adrenaline she had felt earlier seems to have left her body in one giant wave. Now she just feels like melting.

“What do I do now,” she whispers to herself in between breaths. “I can’t go back.”

 _Blanco_ , she remembers, and sharply lifts her head up. The graveyard isn’t too far from here. If she’s lucky, maybe the sack is still there and she won’t have to go back empty-handed. Yes, that’s her only solution. They’ll only take her back if she comes back with him. He started all this, after all.

Nina turns back and starts to run towards the graveyard. But when she gets there, her heart sinks. All that’s left is the sack, opened and fluttering around the rotting motel sign. She should have known.

From somewhere in the distance, someone comes to pick her up. Nina hears the sound of horse hooves clopping down the road, and a luxurious gold and red carriage passes by her. It stops a few feet away from her, and Nina turns to face it and the sunset with tears brimming in her eyes. The outline of her prince steps out of the carriage. His golden crown shines and his fur-trimmed cape fans out behind him. Thin, perfect lips curve into a beautifully gentle smile.

In a voice smooth as velvet, he says, “I’m here to get you, Nina.”

Nina blinks. He’s gone. The tears spill over and down her cheeks.

Of course that would never happen.

 

* * *

 

 

At nine-thirty that evening, the black phone in the Martinez-Lopez family living room rings while Father Pedro and foster mother Angela are watching the newest episode of a TV drama. Angela grumbles at needing to get up from the couch, but crosses over to pick up the phone regardless.

“Hello-” she begins.

“Is this the Martinez-Lopez family?” A deep voice on the other end instantly cuts her off, and Angela frowns and holds the phone closer to her ear. It’s not a voice she recognizes.

“Y-Yes, uh-”

“My sources tell me you’ve a young girl named Nina with you. Is that right?”

“Yes... uh, excuse me, what is this about?” Angela frowns and speaks quickly this time as to not get interrupted again.

“Good, good. I’ll come and get her tomorrow. I’d recommend getting her things ready.”

“P-Pardon me,” Angela sputters back. “Who is this?”

“Who, me?” The stranger says. Angela can almost hear his smile. “Hm... you could call me her father.”

The line cuts off. Angela pulls the phone back with a perplexed expression as she turns to Father Pedro.

“Apparently Nina’s father is coming to get her tomorrow,” she says dubiously.

“I thought her father was dead,” Father Pedro answers without a moment’s pause.

“Well, yes, that’s what we all assumed,” Angela frowns.

“Then what’s going on?”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

Father Pedro’s gaze lands on the framed adoption certificate next to the TV. Nina’s name is printed in bold at the bottom. His eyes widen.

“I see!” he exclaims as he stands up and moves to the certificate to pick it up. “It’s a kidnapping! Could it be... someone who’s envious of my status? That must be it! Is he after my wealth? Is he trying to trouble me by taking away my child support money?” Father Pedro’s grip tightens on the frame.

He turns to Angela with a completely stoic face as he says, “Take out my shotgun.”

Angela’s face pales.

**A NOTE:**

**The Martinez-Lopez family does indeed have a shotgun. It is stored in a safe in Father Pedro and foster mother Angela’s bedroom.**

**Father Pedro has not touched said shotgun for eleven years.**

“He’ll be killed by his intended victim,” Father Pedro smiles calmly. “Isn’t that the best irony you could ask for?”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, all seemed to be oddly normal. Maria and Gabriel hadn’t said a word. Maria’s face was still a bit puffy and her eyes were bloodshot, but other than that breakfast was being eaten as it usually was.

Or so it was supposed to be. But as Gabriel feasted noisily on his plate of eggs and sausages, Nina was left with nothing but a glass of water. She hadn’t made breakfast this morning since she overslept and nobody woke her up; foster mother Angela must have made the meal herself, which was already so strange of a situation it could have been one of the seven wonders of the world.

At first, Nina thinks it’s punishment. Having a meal right provoked is nothing to be surprised at after what she did yesterday. So she sips on her water slowly and cautiously takes a piece of bread from the basket until she notices a gun leaning against the shelf behind Father Pedro. Her eyebrows furrow.

_What is that doing there?_

It’s faint at first, but Father Pedro bristles once the sound of a roaring engine starts to come closer down the road to their home. Everyone stops at stares at him as he stands up from his meal; something that he has never done before.

Father Pedro turns to foster mother Angela and solemnly says, “Hide Nina somewhere.” He then picks up his shotgun, loads a round, and cocks it. Almost as if... someone unwanted was about to come.

Angela nods and starts to stand up. Father Pedro moves into the living room. Maria and Gabriel are still staring back and forth between the two.

Nina opens her mouth to ask what’s going on, but then the next thing to hit her is the sound of shattering glass.

**A BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF THE NEXT TEN SECONDS:**

**Foster mother Angela moved out of the way of the window just in time before a bright red motorbike crashed straight through it. The sound prompted everyone at the table to cover their faces. Nina did so, but tried to look through the raining glass to look at the culprit. She was met with the site of a man with white hair, tan skin, an eyepatch, and a black leather jacket on the back of the motorbike. Time froze as all she could do was stare in awe. Every piece of glass surrounding him sparkles in the morning light like a snowstorm.**

**He then landed perfectly on the dining table, crushing four glasses of water, three plates of eggs and sausages, and everyone’s expectations in less than ten seconds.**

The room smells like gasoline. When Nina finally lowers her arms, nothing in her brain seems to be functioning. The stranger lets out a groan and shakes the glass off his jacket and out of his hair. He turns his head down to stare at Maria first. She’s completely averted her gaze and looks like she’s about to fold in on herself while sitting in her chair. Nina can relate.

“Hey,” He calls, and Maria jumps. “Hey, Miss Lenses, why don’t you look up here. Right at me.” Slowly, Maria lifts her chin to look him in the eye. The man bends down a bit to stare closer at her face. “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Nina, would it?”

Nina’s heart stops. This person is here... for _her_? 

Maria quickly shakes her head, and the stranger sighs again. He turns around to look at Gabriel next. The young boy is shaking and his glasses are lopsided. Again, Nina can relate.

“Unless my eye’s gone completely dead, you’re not who I’m looking for,” the stranger concludes, and finally locks his gaze on Nina. He leans down and rests his elbow on his knee to cradle his chin on his knuckles.

“So it’s you,” Nina can’t tell if he’s asking or stating it. But... he stares. He stares at her with his one strikingly blue eye, and Nina can’t do anything but stare back. Her now-broken glass of water spilled over the table and her knee is wet now but she can hardly even feel it.

He’s a man. Yup, he’s a man all right. A man she’s never seen before. And after crashing through her dining room window on a motorcycle, he’s staring at her with his lips slightly parted.

 _Oh no,_ she thinks. _Oh no. He won’t stop staring at me._

A gunshot rips through the air and her thoughts, and she flinches and covers her ears instinctively. When she cracks her eye open, there’s a hole in the table dangerously close to the wheel of the stranger’s motorbike. She turns her head quickly to see Father Pedro cocking his shotgun (and flailing with it in his arms) on one side of the couch. If he’s trying to kill the stranger, Nina really can’t blame him.

The stranger doesn’t even turn his head until he sees Nina look at Father Pedro. “Hmm?” He hums. He looks once at Father Pedro, then at Nina, then at Father Pedro, and then Nina again.

The stranger shrugs and gives Nina a smirk. He only speaks once Nina hesitantly meets his gaze again.

“Well, I’d say that’s our cue to get out of here, don’t you think?”

His words don’t process in her head. No. It couldn’t be. Was that from his specific language? Was that alien for “I’m here to get you”?

Nina’s head is swirling. She isn’t even sure how they make it back onto the road. She remembers the stranger grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her up onto the backseat of his motorbike, then starting up the engine and driving right out of the house. The engine was humming and her heart wasn’t working and she was barely even breathing, but here they were driving down the road she ran down yesterday.

She keeps a hand awkwardly on his leather-clad shoulders, tightening her grip when they go over the bumps in the road. Her mind is a flurry of confusion. A sandstorm of questions.

Ever since she could remember, Nina had been praying for someone to take her away. And on March seventeenth, that someone finally came for her.

But who in the world was this person?

That was the last coherent thought she had until sirens started wailing behind them. Then she just clung to the man’s leather jacket and screamed the rest of the way down the highway as they sped up.

She was in for a long ride.

**Author's Note:**

> h OO OOOO BOI WOW A NEW FIC SERIES let's see how long it takes before this stops updating  
> random notes:  
> \- ***THIS IS MOSTLY A TEST!*** i'm mainly posting this to get a feel of what people think of this au or idea before continuing. if the reception is good, i'll continue, and if not, i'll take more time to plot out the story and character placements before choosing whether to proceed or not. so please, if you liked it, let me know what your thoughts are! this first chapter is incredibly unbeta'd and probably v messy  
> \- i tried to copy the bolded descriptions and such from the book thief, one of my favorite books. i don't know how well i can pull it off, but i tried my best to put my own spin on it somehow, if that makes any sense? let's just hope i understand the concept of consistency  
> \- i might make major edits to beginning chapters or delete this work entirely depending on how worldbuilding will work. the last thing i want is a story full of plot holes D:  
> \- the main world of this story (for now) is an alternate landscape of brazil!  
> \- help how i do write niles  
> \- this is probably going to be heartbreaking. we'll see  
> \- again, please let me know what you think!!


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